Breakeven
by beforeskylines
Summary: Freddie searches, Sam disappears and Carly tries to keep them all from falling apart. / Sam & Freddie
1. Depart

**One**_Depart_

**.x.**

The air was damp, as if Freddie took a deep breath he would be supplied with a sip of water. Even in the warmth and through the lack of rain he felt as though he was submersed ten feet under in an ocean, seeing the world through watered-down eyes.

Behind him a loud laughter broke out from across the hall, floating over to meet his ears. The sound was mixed up and pushed together, voices combing into each other to make one indistinguishable hum of noise. Every now and then one laugh would push through as the loudest and he would recognize it as one of his friend's.

The one that sounded like bells was coming from his best friend and first love, Carly Shay. He could see it, her throwing her head back and letting her long black locks drape further down her back as she released the melody for some reason or another. The sound that was caught between a manly chuckle and a girly giggle belonged to Spencer Shay, for he forever seemed to be stuck between the stage of manhood and childhood. Spencer was probably laughing just because everyone else was, the joke gone over his head since he really never got conventional humor. That pensive reserved quiet laugh was his mother, brown eyes mirroring his own probably searching the party for her lost son.

He didn't hear the other laugh, the one that should have been the loudest of them all. It would have sounded like danger wrapped tight in insecurities and confidence, the shallow sound of contradiction screaming at the world. He could see the girl it belonged to, arms crossed haughtily across her chest as she laughed at her own joke or some kind of pain she had inflicted on some unsuspecting victim. Her blonde hair would run wild down her back, far too long and far too unkempt to be deemed acceptable. She'd probably be dressed in something boyish yet elegant for the occasion, since there was no way Carly would allow her to come to the party in her usual attire of boy-shorts and ragged hoodies. She'd be a vision; like a train wreck you just couldn't look away from and secretly didn't want to.

Something smacked against Freddie's head harshly as he was literally knocked out of his thoughts, blinking a few times to get a clear view of his situation.

"What? Did you forget your own name, Freddifer? How many times am I gonna have to call you to get a response?"

Freddie scowled, rubbing the spot that was sure to be turning an unhealthy shade red as he turned his attention to the girl who had just haunted his thoughts. Like he had guessed, Sam had ditched her usually attire for a sultry red dress that would make his mother tsk in disapproval. It was far too revealing and hugged her a bit too tightly, and he was sure near the bottom it was a bit see through. As his eyes trailed further down he noticed, with a tinge of pride, Sam's beaten down black Chuck Talyors remand in place. It wasn't surprising.

"No, I didn't but you seemed to have. It's been nearly seven years and you still can't seem to say my name correctly." Sam smirked, pushing past him to plop down on the camper chair beside him, throwing the clutch in her hands to the ground and swinging her legs over the side of the chair to take on a more comfortable position.

"What are you talking about, Fredward, have you not checked your birth certificate lately?" She glanced at him, blue eyes blazing while surrounded by lines of black. "Anyway, what are you doing over here? You do know the party is across the hall, don't you? If you're trying to pull off that whole 'emo' bit, you failed."

She turned her attention back to the sky, running her teeth harshly across her lips. It was a nervous habit of hers, one that always made Freddie become overcome with the urge to reach out and run his fingers across her lips to make her stop. Her lips always looked bruised and cracked, as if she had just drawn back from an intimate, deep kiss.

_God._

He really had to stop staring at her lips and respond. "I just needed a moment. It got a bit tiring telling everyone my ten year plan." he replied.

She let out a small scoff from beside him, shoving his chair with her foot. "Harvard, Hollywood, and then you're going to find the perfect little mail-order wife and direct some huge blockbuster that makes you famous with none of the fame since, lets it face it, no one cares about the directors ." She slid her eyes shut, a small smirk appearing on her lips. "You have it planned out to the second. I don't see how you can know what's going to happen any further then the day after tomorrow. Life isn't that perfect. Plus, you married? Let's be realistic."

"It's not concrete; it's more of an outline of how I want my life to go. And I've already gotten accepted to Harvard, and if I've already met my future wife then-"

"Hasn't Carly already said no a million times? I don't think when you guys are in different states she'll be more inclined to fall madly in love with you, Benson."

Automatically, his mind seemed to reply, _What if it's not Carly?_ But he wasn't prepared to deal with that so he just continued on like the blonde had not spoken. "…My ten year outline can actually become reality." He paused, throwing a smug look over to her. "What's your ten year plan?" He already knew the answer.

"Ten years? I don't have a ten minute plan. It's all about living in the moment, Fredward. After you and Carly ditch me for the big apple and _Massachusetts_," she spat the word, "I'll hitch-hike, see the world on a waitress' salary or some chiz like that. Maybe I'll sleep my way through Europe or something, always wanted to see Rome."

"That's not funny." She had still yet to look at him.

"It wasn't a joke." Her blue eyes set on him, so dark they seemed to have sucked up the night sky. "I'm not just going to stay in Seattle."

"You don't have to, you could go with Carly to New York and apply for late admissions for the next semester at NYU or," he paused, "You could come with me. Boston University seems like something that would be your style, and I'd defiantly gain points from all the freshmen guys from having a hot chick room with me…" he sputtered catching his words.

Sam smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, as much as I'd love to be your 'hot chick' and crash your college scene, I'm not some baby you and Carly have to tote around. School was never my thing; I wasn't expecting to go to college I just…" She cast her eyes towards the ground, biting her lip again. "I just didn't expect it all to end so soon, you know? One moment I'm skipping class and worrying about getting promoted to the next grade and the next thing you know they're handing me a cap and gown and shoving me out the doors. I mean, wasn't it just yesterday you had that squeaky voice and we were all just starting iCarly?"

"Sam…" he reached out, she shrugged him off.

"Don't get all sentimental, nub. Ridgeway is ditching its worst bad habit and I'm finally free of those stupid chains. I can do anything in the world now, it isn't sad or nothing."

"Sam this isn't the end of us, you know. It's not like me and Carly will disappear. I know Carly's going to be texting and e-mailing you every day, and I'll be calling you so much you'll have to block my number."

"Don't delude yourself, Freddork. You'll be busy with school and Carly's bound for stardom. I'll be kicking up dirt in some dried up backwater town and sending you a post card every few months from my newest venture. We'll grow apart, it's what people do."

He reached out and grabbed her hand, not letting her pull away. "We won't. We'll only grow apart if you let it happen. Carly and I aren't going anywhere." Sam stared at him, pursing her lips in challenge but he refused to back down.

Finally she sighed, "Fine, we'll be best friends forever and someday someone will write a book about how our friendship transcends time." She looked away, her hands intertwining with his. "But I seriously will block your number. You'll cramp my style if you're always calling."

He smirked, drawing his eyes away "Wouldn't want to do that. Stop Sam Puckett from getting involved with the next Jonah, or," he laughed, "Calvin."

"Hey, Cal wasn't that bad," she defended.

"Yeah, if you don't count that rumor he spread that you two slept together."

"Who says it's a rumor?"

"Sam."

"Freddork."

They glared at each other, her glare more playful while his held too much heat for her joke. "Fine, it was a rumor. But beside that whole can't get laid so I have to fabricate it business, he was the best boyfriend I ever had."

"That says a lot."

"Oh, please. Look who's talking. You've had, what, two girlfriends? Crazy psycho Valeria and push over Penny."

"Penny was sweet."

"She was a doormat. Even time I waved at her she flinched."

"That's a normal reaction."

"The girl was scared of her own reflection."

"Whatever. My record still beats yours."

Sam rolled her eyes. "_Sure._ Psycho and spineless beat lying and cheating."

He shook his head in disbelief. "Yeah, actually, it does."

"It's a matter of opinion."

"It's a matter of intelligence."

Silence descended on them, a comfortable break from their banter. Their hands still linked them, hanging between them like the only thing in the world that kept them together. Every now and then Freddie would swear she would look at over and smile, but it all happened too quickly to actually be proven.

The noise from the party seemed to have quieted, by now someone must have notice that two out of the three of the hosts were missing. It wouldn't be long before his mother wanted to call the police and Carly sent out a search party to calm her. If they didn't go back soon chaos was sure to ensue.

"We should get back to the party."

"Yeah." Sam didn't move.

"Let me rephrase, we should probably get back to the party now."

Sam sighed deeply, as if he'd just asked her for a huge favor. "Whatever." She stood up, her body jolting back by their locked hand. She stared at them for a second before looking to him.

He flushed, his hands refusing to let go. Who knew when he'd get to hold her hand again? Have a moment alone with her like this one? With Sam, who knew after tomorrow that he'd even see her again?

"You gonna let go?" she drawled, eyes strangely devoid of emotion. He stared at their hands, binding them together and keeping her grounded. He let the bond dissolved, his fingers loosening.

Her hand fell to her side, swaying slowly before coming to a stop. They both stayed still for a moment, as if something momentous had just happened but neither could put their finger on what.

"Well, let's get the show on the road. I am the life of the party and those fools are probably dying without me." Sam smirked at him, turning on her heel and starting back towards the apartment.

He watched her go, staying as still as a statue as she went further and further out of his sight. Once she was gone and the echo of her shoes had faded, he looked back at his hand.

He had let her go.

.x.

_This was originally meant as a one-shot, and then a series of one-shots which involved into a story. The first few chapters are a bit flowery and over done with emotion since I wasn't sure if I was going to give this story the time to really develop Sam and Freddie's relationship so sorry about that. _

_Feedback=Love_


	2. Blur

_Two/Blur _

_**.x.**_

Spin, spin, and spin- she was out of control.

Sam let her eyes slip close, taking in the scent of sweat and drugs as she twirled around in some sort of dancing fashion. She wasn't drunk but she felt the part, her body loose and core far from grounded. Somewhere in the crowd of melting bodies she knew her best friends were looking for her, worried that their crazy best friend had gotten herself into trouble again. She wasn't in school, she had hitchhiked across half of the country and these days 'home' was anywhere between California and New York. She was out of control; a downward spiral. They had to look after her. Always.

She twirled faster; head rushing as she peeked her eyes open and a blur of sound and colors came rushing at her.

It wasn't like she could take care of herself, that maybe she knew what she was doing. It couldn't be that she wanted to have fun doing what she liked instead of spending the rest of her life aspiring towards things that would never make her happy- that would just be crazy. If she ended up a waitress in New Jersey, living in some crappy apartment, it would because she didn't try hard enough to succeed, not because she wanted to be there.

"_I just want to help you,"_ Carly's voice came rushing back to her. _"I'm worried about you, Sam. You don't even realize what you're doing to yourself, do you?"_

She could still see the disappointment shining the depths of her friend's black orbs. Sam had failed her, she knew, but she also knew that she hadn't failed herself yet and that was supposed to be the important thing.

Wasn't it?

Her world came crashing as arms caught her waist, dragging her against something that felt like a wall. Her senses were attacked by the smell of some fruity soapy scent- maybe lavender-and the blinding color of blue and white stripes.

She groaned.

"Oi," she said, or maybe slurred. The world was still spinning too fast for her to get a full grip on the whole speaking thing. "Nub, let me go. I was dancing."

The body against hers sighed heavily, tension running up from his shoulders and into his voice. "Sam, are you drunk?" She almost wanted to say yes, slur her words a bit more and giggle randomly. It was what they were all expecting from her.

Unfortunately, she wasn't in the mode to play girl gone wild so she pulled away from his embrace to glare up at him. "Do I look drunk?" her words were clear and packed with punch, each one holding a little threat.

"So you stayed away from the alcohol, got it. You were just 'dancing' like a fool in the middle of a crowd for no reason."

Sam raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. "Oh, don't tell me Mr. Harvard didn't get the symbolism behind my actions. I was spinning, get it? Like spiraling out of control? I'm real into that whole deeper meaning chiz these days."

His face crunched up, a bit of amusement and a tinge of sympathy forming on his lips to make some hybrid of a smirk and a frown. "Ha ha. You're a true genius."

She shrugged, "What can I say? I don't try, it comes naturally." Sam was faintly aware of the song changing in the background, the poppy techno tune changing into some live act.

The mood seemed to change as Freddork got his 'serious eyes' on, that hazy intense thing they did when he wanted to divulge deep and see into her inner soul; no matter how many times she protested she had no soul to see.

"Carly went outside to see if you left," he told her, his body becoming awkward as couples paired up and swayed around them.

Sam took the initiative, throwing her arms around his neck if only for comfort and forcing him to do some kind of jerky jump thing that for now would have to past as a sway.

"What, did she think I needed a smoke break?" Freddie rolled his eyes but didn't respond. "Why do you losers think I'm five? I'm nearly twenty two, if I stray from your sight for two seconds the world does not end. Newsflash, pedophiles are only interested in children."

"I know, but-"

"Carly asked me to keep an eye on you," she mimicked, batting her eyes lashes extra hard in an emasculating fashion. "Just couldn't say no. Plus, I secretly think you can't take care of yourself either." She smacked the back of his head, glaring.

"Ow," he removed one hand from the place it had somehow settled on, the base of her hip, to rub the spot. "I didn't even say any of that, you did!"

"I have ESPN, Fredina; I know what you were thinking."

"It's ESP."

"ESPN, on the right channel."

A small smile came to his lips as they shared an inside joke, bloomed from way too many Saturday nights spent on the Shay's couch waiting for Carly to make her way home from some date or event.

"She's just worried about you."

"She hardly knows me anymore. The more time were apart the more time she has to create this new Sam-"

"Sam, she's-"

"And I think the more you're becoming taken over by this girl too. I really believe you'll both be relieved if I showed up on your doorsteps with needle marks on my arm and glossy eyes. You want me broken so you have something to fix, I got it. I get that I'm the screw up in our group and without me you're all out of sync, but it's getting pretty chizzy."

"Chizzy?"

"Yeah, Chiz is shit so chizzy is-"

"Yeah, I got it."

"I'd be worried if you didn't."

"Back on topic." They seemed to be actually dancing now, though Sam couldn't be sure since she had never been calm enough to just move back and forth for long periods of time before. "You know it's not like that. Carly just has trouble understanding the unconventional."

"Oh, and you're writing a book about scribbling outside the lines?"

"No, but I know you and-"

"So you're saying you know me better than Carly."

"No," he glared, not wanting to let her have the opportunity to interrupt again. "I'm saying I know you in a way different than Carly. Carly has always seen you as the one she has to protect, so now that you're out in the world where she can't see you she automatically comes up with things to protect you from. Drugs, alcohol and such are just a few things she feels you need to be protected from. It's like how whenever there was a fight in school everyone always assumed you had something to do with it. She takes what she knows and comes up with a logical explanation for your behavior."

The song had changed again, Sam noted with a sigh as she set her head on Freddie's shoulder, something oddly uncharacteristic. "So all those times you went all stalker crazy on Carly really helped you understand her inner psyche, huh?" She didn't look up, but he could feel him grin.

"I guess."

There was a silence, and she could almost hear him working up the courage to ask some question she knew she wouldn't want to answer.

"I like this song," she said to fill the gap, slipping her eyes shut.

"It doesn't seem your style."

"Style is for losers."

He laughed. "Of course it is."

"Of course."

"Sam, do you ever think-"

"There you are! I was looking everywhere for you! Why didn't you tell me you found her?" Like it was natural, Sam jumped away from Freddie and took on a bored expression.

"Didn't you hear the announcement? Found, young women with blonde hair and possible drug dependency. They played it like four times; I knew they should have cut off the music."

"That's not funny Sam, I was worried sick. And you," she whirled on Freddie, "What, you decided to just chat when you knew I was looking for her. What happened to 'I'll text you when I fine her'?"

"I was just trying to tell her how worried you were-"

"Oh, yeah, that's what it looked like it looked like you were doing."

The air shifted something awkward and foul taking over. Sam had been unaware she was missing a piece of the puzzle until it popped up in front of her and then suddenly, when she inserted it into the picture and took a step back, everything was clear.

"Well, if he hadn't kept struggling in my grip I might have actually got a good headlock on him," Sam drawled, drawing a confused look from Freddie.

Carly cocked her head. "You were trying to strangle Freddie?" she asked flatly.

"Yeah, what did you think we were doing?" And then it happened. Almost unnoticeably, Carly deflated in relief.

"Oh, well, nothing, but…" she seemed much calmer."I was still worried."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam took a step away from the two. "Aren't you always? Are you ready to blow this club scene, it's so overrated." Without waiting for a reply, Sam turned on her heel, walking towards the door.

"Sam, wait! My jacket and bag are still in coat check- wait a second while I grab it. Don't move." Sam sighed, turning back around to see Carly already sprinting towards the coat check, probably afraid if she took too long Sam would disappear.

Sam could feel his gaze burning a hole in the side of his face, confusion and something else she was too lazy to be bothered with mixing in his eyes turning his gaze acidic.

"Why did you lie?" he questioned, sounding strangely angered.

"Lie?"

"About the headlock?"

"Headlock?" She continued to play dumb.

"Sam."

"I am blonde, Fredward, you're going to have to make things a bit clearer."

"You weren't trying to put me in a headlock."

"Wasn't I?"

"Sam."

She just shook her head, looking up at the ceiling. "Because lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off."

"That's a song title."

"Is it?"

"Sam, you're dodging the question. A very simple question."

"Drop it, Fredamina."

"But-"

"Got it," Carly huffed, rejoining the group. "Ready?"

Sam spun around, marching ahead.

"I guess that's a yes," Carly chuckled, trailing after.

Freddie stayed routed to the spot though, staring straight ahead as he tried to figure everything all out.

"Freddie, you coming?" Carly stopped, by now, Sam was nearly to the door.

"Of course," he said, still feeling lost.

Just as he was about to push past Carly though, something strange happened. Something warmed took his hand and when he looked down it looked strangely like Carly's hand. He looked up at Carly, who was looking to the floor but tugging him ahead with light pressure.

A light seemed to go off above his head and Sam looked back with a smile and small shake of her head, "Give the boy a prize."

**.x.**

_This chapter is a bit confusing but it's the last one-shot-ish chapter from this point on so look forward to things smoothing out._

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	3. Frostbite

_**Three**__Frostbite_

**.X.**

She had disappeared again.

Freddie sighed, weighing his cell phone in his hands and calculating the odds that Sam would actually pick up the phone this time. It had been longer than usual since he last got something from Sam that reminded him with an insulting blow that she was doing her thing somewhere in the country, healthy and alive. Of course, Carly had gotten a text message not too long ago, a short _'I'm alive'_; simple and to the point. That had calmed him a bit but he wouldn't be completely relieved until she contacted _him_. Until he heard her voice again.

Carly had insisted she wasn't worried, that since she was trying to give Sam her freedom and stop 'suffocating' her like Freddie had suggested, she trusted that everything was going to be okay, but really, if there was ever a time to reign in the leash and _'suffocate'_, it was now. They needed to blow up her phone, send insistent texts and phone calls until she finally gave in, and then, using the power of friendship, him and Carly needed to team up and demanded she fly in to visit them both so they had tangible evidence she was okay.

He sighed, breath turning into a small white cloud as it left the comfort of his mouth and strayed into the cold Cambridge air. Carly insisted it was colder in New York, and if it was, then wherever Sam is it better be damn well freezing. It'd be unfair if while he was outside freezing, unable to sleep for fear that something had happened to his friend, Sam was living it up in some cozy, little cabin.

The cold attacked his bones as he tried in one last fleeting attempt to contact Sam, staring extra hard at his phone as he hit send and a picture of an enraged blonde lunging towards him appeared on his screen. The silence between each ring seemed to mock him but he ignored it and stared harder, trying to conjure up something resembling _'the power'_ from Galaxy Wars.

"_If you don't know me, don't leave a message. Actually, don't bother either way, I won't call you back."_

Sam's voice faded out and was replaced by an automatic voice directing him on what to do if he wished to ignore the blonde's wishes and leave a message. The cold seemed less noticeable as something bordering on the edge of melancholy took over. He stood, shoving his hands deep in his pocket and starting ahead; refusing the anger that seemed to wash over him as he pushed the sadness away. She wasn't worth it.

Only, she was always worth it.

He knew that the whole world was her playground and all that jazz, and between hitchhiking and doing God knows what to get around she might be a little busy, but how hard was it to type a few words and hit send? She made time for Carly. Hadn't they established that they were all best friends; that they'd all be there for each other?

Apparently her thoughts differed on the subject.

He dug around for his keys when he landed outside his dorm. His mother had insisted he get a single, worried about what kind of roommate he'd get if he took the increasingly dangerous dive and got a double. He told her there was really no need to request a single since there was no way anyone was going to stick around after the first day of moving in when she had cleaned his whole dorm and given an emergency info. sheet to everyone in the hall, but still she had insisted. Safety first.

He stuck his key in the door and turned, finding it already unlocked. Strange. He could have sworn he had locked it, he always did. For a second his hand lingered, mind conjuring up images on a man with a knife waiting for him on the inside.

You're a man, he told himself, men are the one who open the door first and think later. Of course, it was already a bit too late for that seeing as how he had basically replayed every horror scene he had ever seen in his head already. So, he simply went with the WWSD method.

He opened up the door and stumbled inside, eyes tightly closed as he wasn't yet ready to face what was waiting for him (okay, so it wasn't as much What Would Sam Do as it was what would Freddie as Sam do). After a minute of silence, and a lack of pain or any creepy voices telling him hello in a Hannibal Lector way, he opened his eyes. He found his dorm empty, just as he left it.

Everything was perfect, clean and in place except for his covers which were balled up a mess, because he didn't think there was any reason to re-make his bed when he was just going outside for a moment or two. He told himself not to look underneath the bed, because he was above that, and when he put his jacket in the closet instead of throwing it on his chair like he usually would of, it wasn't because he was looking for monsters or anything.

He ran a hand through his hair and turned off his phone, sure he'd never get to sleep if he thought every little noise was the sound of a muted text or phone call.

She'd call eventually, she always did.

He wasn't sure if he was just being a masochist, but he opted for the cold and didn't pull back the covers, instead plopping down on his bed and letting the cold keep him company.

Or, he wasn't planning on pulling back on his comforters until he plopped down on his bed and something groaned and shifted underneath him, successfully throwing him off the bed.

He froze, crouched on the ground eyes staring at the bed as he thought about how long it would take to run to the door before whatever it was caught him.

Oh god, he was going to die. He sucked at running.

His comforters shifted, in a very human like manner, and out of the corner of his eye he saw it. A stray strand of blonde hair pulling out of the cocoon of fabric.

"Sam?" He whispered in disbelief, jumping back to his feet and pulling back the comforter. Sure enough, there she was. All balled up in what looked like a pair of his boxers and an over-sized Harvard sweatshirt. Her hair laid around her like a halo, glowing in the moonlight that reflected through the window.

She stirred softly, hands moving about as they searched for the blankets before her eyes slowly rolled open when they came up empty.

"Dude," she groaned, voice laced with sleep. "Un-cool, it's freezing." He just stared at her, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he waited for some kind of explanation to appear. _'Un-cool '_must have been the biggest understatement in the world at the moment.

"Sam? What the hell?" He had been gone for forty five minutes, a bit over an hour at most. How the hell had she managed to break into his dorm, steal his clothes (which he was still trying to reel his mind back from its first _'sexy as hell'_ thought and manage a more appropriate _'utterly disturbing_') and fall soundly asleep?

"What?" she asked, like she broke into his dorm and slept in his bed every night. Which, who knew, she probably did.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been calling you and texting you non-stop for the last three weeks! And then now this, it's three AM, how the hell did you get here?"

She seemed rather unabashed by his outburst. "I've been busy," she shrugged, "And I'm here now, so what's the big deal? Let's just go to sleep and we'll talk about this in the morning." She started for the comforter but he saw it coming, holding it out of reach.

"Yeah, fat chance. Knowing you you'll just slip out before I wake and leave with some note like I'm one of your one night stands or something." Her eyes seemed to flash in the darkness and Freddie suddenly got the image of a tiger roaring to life after being poked one too many times.

"Oh yeah, that's exactly what'd I do," she hissed. "_'Nice fucking, Freddie, thanks for the place to stay. Call you next time I'm in town so we can get it the fuck on again_.'" Her words were scathing and he gulped, dropping the blanket back on the bed like a peace offering.

"Sam, I didn't mean it like-"

"Yeah," she cut off, curling back up and burying herself under the navy covering. "I know."

He sighed deeply, actions tinged with regret and apprehension. "You had time to text Carly," he said softly, decided to steer the conversation back to safer zones.

At first he didn't think she was going to respond, but after a while a soft noise escaped her lips and as she turned to face him again, her head peaking out of her cocoon of fabric. "Yeah, well, she's trying to be less hands on so I figured I'd reward her and stop her from going out of her mind with worry. Plus, you'd fire me with a million questions if I contacted you."

"'Cause of course it would be so inconvenient to actually let me know anything about you these days."

"You're looking too deep into everything, Benson. It's, like, four AM and I'm tired, you're tired and half the world is asleep. I'm here, right in front of you-which, in my opinion, happens to beat some short text telling you I'm alive."

He stared at her, finding no room to argue. "It still doesn't excuse you just dropping off the earth."

She shot a hand out from the covers and patted the sliver space beside her harshly. "Yeah, yeah. Next time you'll get a post card, now sleep."

"But-"

"I don't have classes tomorrow- or ever- which means I can sleep off all this time I'm missing out on right now but you have to wake up in a few hours and be all attentive all day long. Think about it."

This really didn't make Freddie more inclined towards sleeping. In fact, if the more time they stayed awake the more time she'd be there the next morning then he never wanted to go to sleep. Of course, he couldn't exactly say that without possibility getting the crap kicked out of him or having to explain himself- which, since he was still in deep denial with anything involving the girl in front of him, it'd be kind of hard.

So he just rolled his eyes and got in bed, ignoring that feeling that ran up to him as their bodies practically molded together and her hair flew up into his face and the scent of apples and cinnamon flowed around him.

"This is uncomfortable," he finally groaned, not much so much uncomfortable as he was everything else.

Sam didn't budge, though he could tell that she had yet to fall asleep. "Sam, seriously, your taking up the whole bed."

After a minute she groaned, kicking her legs out in annoyance before twisting her body to face his and scooting as close as she could to the wall. Before he could even begin to comprehend what was going on her arms were wrapping around him, their bodies were flushed against each other, but she had successfully created more room.

"Freddie?"

He somehow managed enough air to respond. "Yeah?"

"Don't tell Carly I was here."

He closed his eyes, letting his mind shut down completely and throwing his arm around her. "I won't."

It was their secret.

_/_

_Reviews are loved, and thanks so much to all of you who have reviewed thus far._


	4. Impossible

_**Four**__Impossible_

"Boyfriend?"

Carly blinked, brown eyes flashing and pale cheeks flushing. Sam didn't buy it, taking a rather vicious bite of her beef jerky and staring at her friend with dulled down blue eyes.

"Yeah, Rick or whatever his name is. The one who's studying to become _'the best new rock artist of our generation'_." Carly let out a laugh, the noise sounding more like little bells then an actually laugh. Sam had always been a bit jealous of that, that she had to be the best friend to the girl who had _that_ laugh. That romance novel, in-the-end girl who you know right from the beginning is going to get the guy. Sam never wanted to be that girl, but still, she knew to everyone who looked on them, Carly was always _the _one while Sam was _that _one; the girl who was just in the book to make all the other characters shine brighter.

Well, whatever.

What was that saying, '_Anyone can be a star'_? Yeah, well how many people could be the sky?

"_Oh_, Richard. We broke up forever ago- I told you, didn't I? Remember, I told you he was dropping out to college to runaway and _'make it'_ in L.A. and he wanted me to come with him. When I told him I wouldn't go we ended things and that was that." Carly took a deep gulp of her coffee, looking to the window of the café. "It wasn't right with him anyway. I don't know what it is nowadays, I just feel like I'm growing out of those kinds of relationships now, you know? I'm growing older and I need something more serious."

Outside it was just the time of the year where every morning the sky started out with the promise of snow and yet at the end of the day you were left waiting on a dry ground. Sam had always loved snow, beside the fact that it gave her unlimited ammo against anyone who pissed her off; the world always seemed like a different place when draped in white. It seemed less fucked up, more peaceful.

"Seriously? You're twenty two, no need to go fishing for a ring. Have fun, be wild. I would have gone with him if I were you." Sam didn't like that she knew two people who were both already ready and set to settle down. What was the rush? If things went her way she'd never end up married. Divorce was inevitable so what was the point? Relationships came with an expiration date and when she was ready to check out, she didn't want to deal with the paperwork and scorn of society.

"I'm not _'fishing for a ring'_," Carly turned her attention back to Sam, sighing. "I just- I want forever you know? I'm at the point in life where I'm starting to worry if there is anyone out there for me. If there's someone for everyone, then why haven't I met that person?"

"Maybe you already have." Sam wanted to take back the words. Her hand inched off her lap, anxious to reach out and grab the air as if her words were just hanging in the balance and could be returned back to where they came.

"Yeah…" Carly's eyes didn't leave Sam's. "Maybe I have." Sam closed her eyes, reaping the short peace that came with a blink before returning Carly's gaze.

Something was definitely not right in Sam's stomach. She was feeling that nausea feeling she used to get back when she still had a slight fear of authority, like even though she couldn't be a hundred percent positive, she just knew trouble was coming.

She looked back to the window, clearing her mind of any thoughts. "Maybe."

It still wasn't snowing.

"Arizona?" Freddie voice rang out through Carly's apartment, filling the void that Sam had left with her sudden departure.

"Yeah," Carly sighed into the phone, "Apparently she met some guy and-"

"Say no more." She could almost see him shaking his head, probably rolling his eyes at their best friend's antics. "How long do you think it will be until she realizes she hates the heat?"

"I don't know, maybe five, six minutes after she gets off the Grey Hound." Freddie laughed, warm and deep. It was weird how she had never noticed that, how his voice had suddenly changed from high and squeaky to deep and warm. If Sam hadn't pointed it out it would've taken all of sophomore year to finally put on her finger on what exactly was different about their favorite tech nerd. Sam had also been the one to notice when he got taller, and to notice when the other girls at school noticed as well.

Likewise, Freddie had been the one to notice when Sam finally decided to learn how to use eyeliner. He had been the first to speak and say somehow; someway Sam had turned _'hot'_ over the summer before their senior year. (Though, he had chosen to classify it as 'Sorta, kinda appealing to the male race', he excluded, of course). Carly on the other hand was always last to notice if something changed in their group's dynamic.

It wasn't like she didn't care enough to notice; it was just unless she was in her '_crush mode'_ then details like that seemed to escape her notice. A simple matter of tunnel-vision, that was all.

"Carly?" Her thoughts seemed to pop, falling around her as Freddie's voice broke through like a needle.

"Oh, sorry, what?" Come to think of it, Sam wasn't exactly miss-aware either. She usually didn't even notice when…wait. Did Freddie like Sam? Did Sam like Freddie? They couldn't, could they? It was Sam and Freddie after all; they together would just be…

"I was asking if you knew whether or not Sam was coming to Thanksgiving. Spencer said he invited her mother but she was going to be _'busy'_ that week, which means Sam isn't going to have anywhere to go and so-"

"Do you like Sam?" Carly blurted. She had always had a little problem with keeping her thoughts in her head.

"Um," Freddie said, confused. "Yes? I thought we already established that Sam and I were actually friends," he sighed, "What, was she calling us _'co-workers'_ again? Because, technically that term doesn't even apply anymore and the only reason she's doing it is because last time I saw her we got into-"

"That wasn't what I met. And what do you mean _'last time I saw her'_? Wasn't the last time you saw her is when you both came up to visit me for the weekend…" There was a pause on the other line. "Freddie?"

"What was that? Okay! Be right there!" He failed to make his voice sound distance. "Sorry Carly but-"

"You don't have a roommate and your mother isn't there, you don't have anyone to use as an excuse," Carly said flatly before sighing deeply, hurt taking over her tone. "So much for telling each other everything." Freddie made some sort of squeak, the kind he made when he was too guilty to speak. "I don't get what it is with you and Sam. I mean, you guys argue more than anyone I know and you're always inflicting physical or emotional trauma on one another- well, at least Sam is inflicting trauma on you," She paused. "But at the end of the day you guys have all your little secrets and this little world that I don't seem to fit into."

"Carly, it's not-"

"Yeah, Freddie, it is. You guys always have secrets and I'm starting to think-" There was the distinct sound of someone choking on the other line.

"Wait, wait, wait. You thought…you mean, you think…I _like _Sam." Why did it sound so much sillier when he said it?

"Well, not necessarily…I mean, you guys did kiss…and you guys apparently hang out secretly and-"

"Sam broke into my dorm in the middle of the night, stole my clothes, and ripped me off the next morning so she could buy out half the university's gift shop and make me look like the biggest loser in my dorm," he groaned. "You can see why I wouldn't want to tell you about coming back after classes to find every person in my hall snickering at the _'Good Luck. Wuv you, Xoxo- Mama' _sign that was on my door surrounded by various stuff animals."

Carly was silent, processing the information. "So… you and Sam?"

"It's me and Sam," he said, like that explained everything.

Still unsure, Carly decided to take the route of defeat. "Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking. It's just when you guys keep things from me my mind goes crazy and…"

"Yeah, I got that by that whole me and _Sam_ thing. You do realize right now she's somewhere close to Arizona with some random guy she just met doing-"

"God's know what, yeah. I know, it sounds _really_ stupid, let's just forget I said it? And let's never ever tell Sam, okay?"

Freddie scoffed, "Who'd you think she'd hit if I told her? Or if you told her for that matter? She'd somehow find some way to blame me." Carly laughed, sinking back into the couch.

"Yeah, Sam is a bit…" she trailed off for the right word.

"Crazy," Freddie faked coughed, causing her to smile.

"Eccentric."

"She's more than eccentric, she's…" he trailed off, and Carly could almost see _that_ expression seep onto his face.

It was the expression he always got at one point or another when they talked about Sam. It was a mixture of exasperation and amusement with just the smallest hint of endearment. Carly was sure that he had a look for her too, wasn't it just natural to automatically take on some kind of expression when your thought stayed to someone you held _any_ emotion for. It wasn't like you had to be in love with someone to have a certain expression for them; it wasn't like you had to have some profound relationship with that person.

"She's like a walking contradiction; a ticking bomb. I mean, conversing with her is like willingly climbing into a lion's den and waving around a pack of meat. Trying to engage in anything even _resembling_ friendship is like jumping off a plane without knowing your parachute is going to work and- actually, can we go back to the plane metaphor? May I remind you she actually _did_ push me off a plane without knowing my parachute would work? Because that incident left significant mental scarring."

Carly forced a laugh. The phone had become a vortex that kept stealing pieces of her; her breathe, her voice…her heart. She just couldn't figure out why.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Sam's like that."

"Carly? I can barely hear you, what was that?"

"I have to go."

Carly stared at the phone for a moment, unsure of what she was feeling. Talking to Freddie everything seemed so obvious, so obvious and it hurt her. If Freddie did like Sam…Carly shook her head, clearing her thoughts and turning to the window.

It was snowing.

_/_


	5. Incandescent

_**Five**__Incandescent_

The ground was empty, the terrain bare between the two bases except for a small, poorly crafted igloo in the middle of the firing zone. It stood as a reminder of better times, before the war broke out and there was peace between the two.

Freddie shivered, closing up the last button of his jacket and taking a careful peek around the wall of snow he had built to protect himself. All he could see was miles and miles of white, not a strand of blonde or a flash of blue as far as the eye could see. He was starting to think that maybe Sam had left while he wasn't looking, it was highly possible. He wasn't dealing with someone who had any morals after all; knowing the blonde she had probably ditched their game for the promise of hot chocolate and a good laugh when Freddie finally found her hours later bordering frostbite. Just as he was about to test his theory a snowball came flying past him, barely missing his cheek. He narrowed his eyes, peeking around his wall once again just in time to see a flash of red fabric before it disappeared behind a wall of white.

Freddie was aware that, now twenty two, it was ridiculous to be having a snowball war in a public park at five o'clock in the morning but he really didn't have much choice in the matter. When Carly, the sane one, had announced she had to go back to New York early to catch a last minute lecture one that her professors was giving, he just knew nothing good would come with a day spent alone with Sam, in other words, the crazy one. So, of course it was no surprise while walking back to his dorm after saying goodbye to Carly at the airport, Sam had decided it would be 'fun' to start bombarding Freddie with snowballs. At first he had refused to take part in her antics, telling her over and over again that he was above her and her childish games, but when she had shoved a handful of snow down his pants all bets were off. Before he knew what was happening wall were being built, weapons were supplied and he was wasting an hour of his life welcoming hypothermia with open arms. Somewhere between the wall building and war declaring there had been a slight lull where they had called a truth and built an igloo, but that seemed like a distance dream now.

"Just give it up, Fredilina," Sam's voice rung out in the cold, not a tremor in her tone. "You know I'm going to win."

In all honesty, he did know she was going to win. It was Sam, and really, even if she lost she always somehow came out a winner, but he couldn't back down from the challenge. Couldn't back down from the idea maybe this time the gods would finally look the other way and let him get the upper hand for once, just give him one tiny thing to hold over her head.

"What was that?" He called back, his voice shaking with cold. "You're looking for a reason to stop?" Another snowball sailed over his head as an answer. At this rate, they'd be outside all day.

Without warning a pile of snow crashed over of his head and when he looked up she was there, using his own ammo against him to pelt his with the snowballs.

"This ends now, Benson!" She screamed, continuing to pelt him.

He stuttered, the oncoming slaughter of frozen water making it a bit hard to come up with a battle plan past 'retreat'. Blindly he grabbed a handful of snow, whipping it in front of her and in some kind of divine intervention, successfully landing a hit smack in the square of her face.

For a moment there was silence as Sam let the snow fall from her hands, snow slipping off her face as her expressions battled between pride and rage. Freddie sat frozen, shooting an amazed look towards his hand and back towards Sam's pale, wet face. On the one hand, he had finally gotten his moment, that one moment he could always hold over her head using a simple 'remember when'. On the other hand, the odds he living long enough to actually reap the benefits of his small win was slim to none.

Sam raised a hand to her face and wiped off the remaining snow off her face, setting surprisingly calm eyes on Freddie.

"Okay," she said, like she wasn't planning a cruel and unusual way to murder him, which he knew she was. "You're paying for breakfast." Then, simply, she turned on her heel and started to walk away.

He stared after her, not able resist the urge to cock his head and let the confusion seep onto his face. Did Sam Puckett just walk away in the middle of a battle? No, not possible. He took a look around, wondering where the real Sam was and how she had managed to secure a doppelganger in such a short amount of time. Unless she had somehow flown in Melanie from Italy, put aside her undying hatred for her sister and somehow convinced her to-

"Oi, Freddifer, what part of your paying for breakfast did you not understand? Move it!"

He stared.

"Benson!"

He inhaled heavily, getting to his feet and taking a careful step forward, positive any minute now a mine or something equally as dangerous was going to go off underneath his feet. After a few cautious steps, he started to get the feel that maybe she didn't have some diabolical plan that involved complex planning and weapons of mass destruction. Maybe her stomach had gotten the best of her and she was letting him off easy.

Yeah, that seemed possible.

By the time he had finally caught up to her she seemed to already have grown bored with waiting and immersed herself in unraveling her jacket from the small strand of string that had come loose on her sleeve.

"Took you long enough," she complained, giving the string a powerful tug, succeeding in nothing but increasing its length tenfold . "We're going to Bristles."

Bristles- of course, now it all made sense. The place was known for its delicious food and its outrageous price tag, it had to be the most expensive place in Massachusetts. Sam had planned it all out, she let him get away with his life in exchange for taking all of his money; surely sending him into poverty before twenty three. He should have known that the only thing that was more important than winning to her was food.

He stared at her for a moment, meeting her challenging stare. He knew she knew what the price tag was for a lunch at a place like Bristles was, and he also knew she was just waiting for him to fight her on it, a thousand retorts probably trapped like a floodgate behind her lips at the very moment.

He sighed; it was useless.

"Defeat?" She questioned with a smirk, raising an eyebrow.

"Let's just go." He pushed past her, trying to ignore the little voice that said he didn't really mind losing to her.

_/_

"Favorite place?"

The day was in its prime, the winter sky going as light as it could, sun peaking out behind dusty white clouds to kiss the town with a bit of light. It was still freezing, snow serving as the only blanket since Sam insisted she wanted to spend as much time outside as she could, 'Never know where I'm going to end up next, Benson, gotta savor the winter while I have it'. Of course, he had argued that if she just got a permanent settlement she wouldn't have to savor and seize and all the other stuff that came with having no grounding, but she wouldn't hear it. She was a balloon; if you weren't always holding her down she'd fly away and if you kept her down she'd eventually deflate in your grasp. Either way, there was no such thing as forever when it came to Sam.

"Seattle," Sam answered from beside him, spreading her arms out to deepen her snow-angel imprint. "Duh."

Freddie wasn't sure when they had started it but they had fallen into a routine of firing questions at each other whenever they got bored. It started as a simple round of Favorites but every now and then they'd get bored and stray into 'I Never' or 'Would you rather'.

Freddie turned to look at her, though she wasn't paying attention. "Why Seattle, you've been like everywhere. I thought you hated Seattle."

Sam through a ball of snow into the air, making little flakes rain down on them. "Nah, I hated being chained down, I didn't really hate Seattle though. Free food, free living; it was a pretty good deal when I look back on it now. Plus, we were famous when we lived in Seattle; I used to get free stuff when people recognize me from iCarly." That was the first he had heard of her liking the fame, she had always been apathetic on the subject. While Carly bathed the spotlight Sam was indifferent, didn't mind it was there but seemed like she could do without it.

"Seattle is my favorite place too, I miss us all being together."

Sam scoffed. "You're a sap, and plus, I didn't ask you what your favorite place was, way to be selfish." He rolled his eyes. "Hm…if you had a girlfriend-which you might never have, so savor this hypothetical one while she's here- would you rather you guys have a Sid & Nancy type thing or a Mr. & Mrs. Brady type deal."

"Brady, of course. Sid stabbed Nancy and she was annoying anyway."

"We're not talking about the people, Fredward, we're talking about the type of the relationship. The Brady deal is so boring, it's so…" she searched for the right word. "Calm."

He let a laugh escape his lips, of course she'd make calm synonymous with boring. "It's not boring, it's romantic. Most people are looking for that in life, you know. The true love 'I'm safe in your arms' type stuff. Comforting, calm; everyone seeks that out."

Sam propped herself up on her elbow so he could see her roll her eyes. "Not _everyone_ is looking for that, just the losers. I want that explosive bomb-type stuff you hear about in the action films. The kind of stuff that makes you anxious about tomorrow and worry about today and always keeps you wondering 'Why the hell am I doing this?' How exciting would it be to never know if you're going to wake up in an empty bed? Or if by the end of tomorrow you're going to hate the person just as much as you loved them today. Love should be thrilling- like that time we skydived in Japan." She plopped back down and sighed, obviously caught up in her thoughts.

Freddie peered at the grey sky, eyebrows furrowing. "I thought you didn't want to fall in love."

There was silence and Sam laid still, the cold become more noticeable in the lapse in action. "I don't. There is absolutely no one who can give me what I want and I don't settle." She seemed to debate something before saying, softer than before, "I could never have that person."

Blood ran hot; heartbeat in ears, Freddie tried to manage a steady line of thought. "That means that you do want to fall in love, you know."

"No, it means I know what kind of love is ideal- but I don't want it."

"You can't have it," he corrected without thinking. Abruptly the mood seemed to change. He'd pay a million bucks to sit up and get a look at Sam's expression.

"I'd rather not have it then get stuck with your crap love anyway," she huffed, arrogance seeping off her tone. "You're going to end up all cookie-cutter and for that I pity you."

"_Wait, wait, wait. You thought…you mean, you think…I like Sam."_

His own voice echoed in his head, only it didn't sound anything like he thought it had when he had repeated the words out loud to Carly. In his head, in this moment the ending seemed more like a statement. He could see himself phone in hand, eyes set in regiment and some kind of weird contentment as he said the phrase, so simple, I like Sam.

Only, he didn't like Sam and this whole train of thought was bound for a crash so he needed to get ahead of things and jump off. It was just, Carly made liking Sam seem impossible and Sam made liking anyone but her (since honestly, no one could really fit her definition of love except her) like the worst thing in the world. She somehow made herself seem like the best thing in the world to have, and Carly…will, Carly didn't make her sound like the worse just…

He really hated the word impossible.

"I'm cold," Sam stated, and he was sure he heard her sniffle, a sure sign of an oncoming cold.

"We are lying in the snow," he stated.

"I don't want to lie in the snow anymore," there was something beneath the surface but he just couldn't reach it. Sam was always a bit too deep and he was coming up too shallow to reach; the irony was never ending.

Sam stood up, staring down at him with the impatience that came with having to wait more than a second to get what she wanted.

"Want to go back to the dorms?"

"No, I want dessert. Let's go to the café right by your dorm."

"We just ate!"

She stared at him and he remembered that when it came to Sam she was never really full. "Fine, but you're paying." Sam laughed, in that easy carless way. Her laugh always seemed to stir something in him, and for that he loved it.

He mumbled something about poverty and appreciating the common dollar as he stood but Sam was too busy crouching down to the ground to do something or other to pay attention.

"Come on, if we're going we're going." Sam stood back up and before he had time to even think a single thought his face was bombarded with the cold ice of a snow ball.

As the contents slid off his face he was able to see Sam clearly, smirking in all her glory. "For earlier," she shrugged. "I only play to win."

_/_

_Feedback=Love_


	6. Sweetness

**Six**_Sweetness_

**.X.**

Ironically, Carly was the one who got drunk.

As Thanksgiving faded into just another day, Freddie felt himself sighing in relief as the brunette finally gave way to the alcohol induced state of unconsciousness. Even though the circumstances were completely different than they were a few years ago, there was something nostalgic about being back in the iCarly studio; Carly curled up in the corner on a beanbag and Sam lying lazily across the top of the flamed car.

Carly looked exactly the same, never spiking up another inch since departing high school; her personality just as stagnant, sill as nice and stern as ever. Freddie however had changed since the trio last visited the studio. No longer was Carly the coveted girl-next-door who could do no wrong; she had flaws now. The way she kept him grounded felt more motherly than romantic and every now and then he found himself annoyed with her reprimanding nature. Freddie eyes flickered to the blonde, he saw her differently as well.

Sam, in certain ways, hadn't changed much either; she had grown a few inches and had become a bit more feminine. Try as she might, she had lost the boyish edge she sought in her style when she started filling up her jeans and wearing hoodies that inched up more like midriffs. When they had first started iCarly, Freddie saw Sam as an older version of her mother; lazy, unmotivated and promiscuous. At best he thought she'd become some over-dramatic feminist who went into a rant every time a guy looked at them the wrong way.

He guessed he couldn't be surprised that once she had picked up on the fact that teenage boys plus breast was something similar to what kryptonite plus Superman equaled, she was on the whole sex sells angle like an addict on crack. It had been worse right after puberty when she even managed to turn even their teachers scolding into innuendos, but eventually she grew bored of the negative attention that came with her actions. She was still a bit of a flirt and the first to sink her mind in to the gutter, but he was starting to think she was like that before sex came into play and he just never noticed.

"I'm so tired," Sam muttered from her perch, rolling on her side so she could set half-lidded lazy blue eyes on him.

He checked his watch- it was just past midnight- before rolling his eyes and suggesting the obvious, "Then just go to sleep."

Sam narrowed her eyes, and he had an inkling that if she wasn't in such a lethargic state she would have got up and hit him, or at the very least found something to throw at him. "I gotta stay awake until three, Pork & Paradises is giving away free gift cards for anyone who shows up to their black Friday meat and more party. It doesn't start until three and I'm not missing out on free meat and a pass for future free meat just for something as useless as sleep."

Ignoring the glare from Sam, Freddie opened the car door and situated himself in driver's seat. It was a weird situation; he had never spent much time in the vehicle even though it was one of the main props of the studio. It had always been Sam's car; marked by little traces of herself like doodles on the steering wheel to let everyone know to keep-off. "You can't just show up at three o'clock and expect to get in. There are outrageous lines for everything tomorrow- technically today."

"Waiting in line is for the weak and the nubs; a true meat lover doesn't let anything stop them," Sam scoffed.

"More like a true criminal," he muttered under his breath, crossing his arms over the steering wheel and leaning in to take on a more comfortable position. He had been up all day and he was really starting to feel it. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, tossing and turning anxiously as his mind played out a million scenarios for the holiday that had just passed.

Mostly his thoughts had lingered on the girl in front of him, wondering if she'd bother to actually drop by this year for the holiday. By blood, his family consisted of his mother, but by bonds it was Sam and Carly to the grave. The whole togetherness feel that Thanksgiving tried to convey would be lost if Sam failed to show, the day would be ruined by awkward silences and a lot of 'So, have you heard from her' like they had done the years before when the blonde was too concerned with other things to drop by.

"You'll understand one day," she let her eyes slip close, a soft smirk appearing on her lips. "When you finally grow a pair."

Freddie ignored the comment, by now he had built up a resistance to her superficial insults. Letting his own eyes fade behind his eyelids, something resembling calm transcended on them. He wanted to stay like this forever. Just him, Sam and Carly forever.

_Forever_.

That word kept coming back to him. Freddie was a realist, and yet he had this idealistic view that Sam would stick around. That she wouldn't get lost in the shuffle like he and Carly both secretly knew was bound to happen.

"Why do you want to disappear?" The words fell out his mouth; unstoppable in a good way.

Even though her breathing was even and her body was still, he knew she wasn't asleep. She was hiding- disappearing right in front of his very eyes. He rolled his eyes; for a girl so barbaric and blunt she had a way of being poetically tragic. Then again, maybe he was just making her out that way. The mind had a way of warping things.

Suddenly Sam let out a moan, forcing into his thoughts in her usual careless manner as she turned nosily in front of him so her eyes were facing the ceiling. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed, annoyance exploded out of her every move.

"When did I say I wanted to disappear?" Time had been speeding by. As he caught the clock he noted it's had been at least a good ten minutes since he asked the question. He also noted that even though he wanted an answer to his question, he was pretty sure he needed to raise his defensive and prepare for a verbal lashing.

"So you were pretending to be asleep then?" Freddie tried. It was possible that he was just as spineless as Sam made him out to be.

She glanced over, clearly not amused by the lack of cowering and immediate compliance. "I never said I was going to 'disappear,' what, did you get me confused with some after school special?" She ignored his question entirely. "Disappear," she scoffed.

"I didn't mean literally disappear," he set her with flat eyes.

She rolled hers, though it was hard to tell since she was still facing away from him. "Obviously, if I actually disappeared I'd be one step closer to becoming an invisible ninja."

He throttled down the smile that threatened at his lips, vowing to keep it serious for once. "You never said you'd disappear," he ignored her triumph smirk, both from his compliance and the admittance that she was, in a technical sense, right while he, in a technical sense, wrong. "You just disappear. Over and over again you disappear- and you just have this way of implying that our time-" he glanced at Carly- "Our time is limited."

Sam shrugged, apparently nonplussed by the accusation. "I'm a no strings kind of girl, Benson. Just because I'm not all…clingy or whatever- committed to our relationship," she frowned, nose wrinkling. "Doesn't mean I'm trying to be that way. It's embedded into my DNA like being a nub is encoded into yours. You're over thinking things."

"Sam Puckett, girl who loves by when the going gets tough the tough get going- out the door? Excuse me if I doubt you since I've not once seen you pick flight over fight."

" I'm the 'When the nubs get emotionally attached the cool get the hell out before their loser virus becomes contagious' type girl. Why is it whenever I'm not all over you, you get all sentimental." She sat up and smirked at him. "Are you really that obsessed with me?" Sam was smug for nearly a second and then it seemed to occur who she was talking to. Freddie could see the battle wage on her face, she had too much pride to back down even if she had been the only actively avoiding anything romantic associated with him.

If Sam didn't look so troubled he probably would have rolled his eyes yet again and dropped the topic. This was his chance though, that stray opportunity to actually get somewhere with a conversation escape artist. "Apparently."

"What are you saying, Benson," she leaned in closer and he could almost see a sign popping in front of his eyes: Warning, warning. "You're in love with me now?"

The word was like a bullet that instantly took the life out of the conversation. Love. Even with the disgust in her tone she made it sound appealing and Freddie felt his stomach turn.

"You win," he said. Exhaustion weighed on him more heavily than it had the entire night.

Those were usually the magic words but he could tell that Sam had already switched in to game mode. She wasn't out for surrender, she wanted defeat."What, so your admitting to your undying love?" She pressed; face stoic but arrogant aura smothering. "You'd think the whole in love with the best friend thing would get redundant, but I guess Carly's numerous rejects might have done some damage to your judgment."

Sam jutted her head up to give the ceiling a thoughtful look."Plus all the damage Crazy has probably done. I mean, she did try to get you to go on a date with that cross-dressing senior when we were juniors. Desperate as she is, I don't think you're mother would approve of this development."

Approve? His mother would have a stroke at even the suggestion that he had any type of feelings for Sam. Hell, Freddie was having a miniature stroke at the thought of the hypothetical feelings.

"Mhm."

Freddie's thoughts were put on hold and Sam's attention was drawn elsewhere as Carly stirred, mumbling something incoherent before clumsily falling off her bean bag. A few seconds later she awakened in a series of giggles.

"Round two," Same said flatly.

Since Sam's main way of handling drunken Carly involved a shower and multiple ounces of ice cold water, he made the first move and slid out of the car, starting cautiously towards the brunette.

"Carly?" It had been nearly two hours since she had slipped into her semi-sleep; hopefully the time gained had sobered her up a bit. Carly had always been a lightweight, with one drink she was feeling a buzz and by three she was trashed. After every hangover she'd fervently deny over and over again that she'd ever drink again, yet when Sam waved a bottle of booze in front of her face it wasn't long before Carly was having 'just a cup'. He had been the rational one and had stuck with his cup of fruit punch while Carly had- he wasn't sure how much, he stopped counting at four, and Sam must have downed at least a bottle and a half.

"Alcohol poisoning? You're speaking to a Puckett, I'm 72% alcohol." Sam had reasoned for her tolerance.

Carly stopped giggling, hazy eyes sweeping over the room. "Oh Freddie," she said, still slurring but better than what she'd been at before passing out. "Sam too, you're both still here."

Carly didn't seem too happy about it but Sam looked unsurprised when Freddie turned to gage her reaction."Yeah, Carls, I'm still here."

"Oh course you are," she said bitterly. "It's very, very late and Freddie is still here which means you must still be here. Freddie never stays late with me unless you're here."

Sam sighed deeply, her movements sluggish as she slipped off the car in a grace that was unprecedented for her and moved towards Carly. "'Kay, Carls, time to get you to bed."

Carly sat up, crossing her arms in childish matter as she glared at the two. "I am not going to bed. Just because I'm a little bit," she swayed, holding up her fingers in the universal gesture for 'just a little.' "Drunk, doesn't mean I don't know what you're going to do when I go to bed."

Freddie suddenly clued in to what she was suggestion and colored. "I can't believe she's still on this," he groaned aloud. Sam shot him a look but didn't question him when she spoke.

"We aren't going to do anything- well, Freddie's not going to do anything, I'm going to go party and get free meat while Freddork here will probably go take a nice warm tick bath.".

"_Right_. You two are gonna…you're going to," she said, fighting to keep focus as Sam finally heaved her up. "Do the unspeakable thing again. You guys always leave me out of everything and Cyrus, Cyrus says it's because you-" she hiccupped. "All seeing each other." Even Sam couldn't keep her apathy, choking on air as she threw an incredulous look towards Freddie.

"Cyrus?" Freddie repeated the name. "Isn't that her annoying friend in New York?" he turned towards Sam, who was still staring at Carly in disgust.

"Carly I have more feelings for that stuff animal over there than I do for Freddie, you're being ridiculous." Freddie full-on glared before realizing she was supposed to be working on getting Carly to bed, not catering to his non-existent feelings. Still Sam looked completely repulsed.

"She's drunk; she doesn't know what she's saying," he told her over Carly's head. "I know what she's saying is completely ridiculous but we shouldn't engage in conversation with her when she's in this state. Don't let her get to you."

"I'm not; she's just putting me off my hunger." Sam looked at him cruelly. "It makes me sick to my stomach to even think of what she's suggesting."

"Really, I feel perfectly fine. I guess I just don't take it personally because, for me, it isn't. But having your secret back-of-the-notebook feelings revealed would probably be pretty nauseating." Somewhere in the back of his mind Freddie realized that he was letting judicious fly out the window just to rekindle his little game with Sam at a completely inappropriate time but he didn't care. He was being handed opportunity after opportunity and he'd be a fool to let them keep passing.

"Oh it isn't personal for me, just the thought of me ever engaging in something as immoral as loving you is so bad it even strikes a chord with my sense of right and wrong."

"How is it immoral?"

"It just is. Look Benson, now isn't the time for this-"

"I'm not immoral," Carly piped, sleepily pressed against Sam now. Freddie wasn't even sure at the moment she knew what immoral meant. "And I love Freddie."

"Wait, like in love?" Freddie questioned, now taking her seriously.

"Love," Carly repeated, though it was more of a whisper. Sam was staring at the both of them like they had decided to announce they were both dropping out of school to become drifters like herself.

"You're going to regret that one in the morning," Sam muttered, more to herself and Freddie realized she hadn't put in some snaky contradicting comment to her friend's confession. In fact, Sam was oddly determined and reserved for the mountain of ammunition that had just been handed to her.

Carly had pretty much given up resisting and within moments Sam was pulling the brunette out of the room, reappearing twenty minutes looking haggard.

Sam watched him with dull interest, eyes raking over his form as if he was invisible before sighing heavily while plopping down in the middle of the floor. Spreading out her arms and legs like they were back in snow-filled Massachusetts and she was trying to make a snow angel.

"Sam…" he started, but she paid no attention to him. Closing her eyes and letting the tension out of her body. "Carly, she said that-"

"I was there." She reached up to push her bangs off her forehead, pressing two fingers harshly against the bridge of her nose.

"You don't think that she-"

"Actually meant it? She was drunk. Who knows who cares?" There was a heartbeat of silence before her eyes opened again, glimmering in a mirth that should of warranted a smirk, but her lips stayed flat. "You care." It wasn't a question.

Freddie bit the inside of his cheek, unwarranted guilt sweeping over him. "It's not like I'm still in love with her," he turned his eyes to the side, unable to face her stare. "I'm just curious."

Sam scoffed, "Isn't that a bit harsh? If you're not in love with her, why would you want to know? Want revenge for all the times she said no to your sorry ass?"

"No, I just want…" He didn't know.

"An ending or a beginning," she finished for him, drawing her hands behind her head. "You either want to begin a new chapter with Carly, or close an old one," she said. "Honestly, you guys should just jump each other's bones and get it over with. Like I said earlier, the whole in love with the best friend thing had been beaten to death."

"Says the girl who-" he cut himself up as her blue eyes turned icy, "I don't know. I'm getting ahead of myself, why think about this when there really isn't any 'this' to think of yet?"

"Sure, Benson, there is totally nothing for you to worry about. Though, when you finally get back to reality you might be in for a surprise." Seemingly unable to relax Sam sat back up and stood, brushing off invisible dirt.

"Because you're just the queen of reality," he said sourly."Last time I checked reality was about fifty miles behind your back choking on your dust."

"Carly loves you; you love her stop making it so damn difficult. Confess, date, get the married and stop screwing up our friendship, okay? You might be a total nub who is in no way or form deserving of Carly or someone as awesome as me as a friend, but you got us so don't screw it up. Think you can do that, Freddifer? Stick to your little ten year plan and this will all go down smoothly." Sam had apparently had enough, which was just great because so had he.

"I don't love Carly."

"I can't deal with this," Sam said, like she was the mature one. "Since I've met you it's been Carly this and Carly that and now that you have her you don't want her? Bullshit." She jabbed him in the chest. "Get over whatever your issue is and admit it; you still have feelings for her."

"_You_ get over whatever _your_ issue is, I told you I don't."

Sam didn't let her eyes stray from his, her blue eyes just daring him to say anything but what she wanted to hear. The thing was though; the longer he kept the challenge going the less he cared about it. He didn't love Carly, and he had a feeling there was something more to Carly's confession than she was just simply realizing her feelings for him.

Sam just wanted him to love Carly because it would make things easier for her. She was selfish and she wanted to take the simple way, a way out that didn't require her to face him. To face this unacknowledged thing between them; their connection. It was there, and sure he might have been trying hard to ignore it before, but he wasn't any longer. It was there, no ignoring it. He and Ms. Independent had a 'thing'.

Freddie suddenly became aware of their proximity and resisted the urge to step by. Opportunities, he reminded himself, you have to seize them if you want to get anywhere. Sam glare was becoming less threatening and more frustrated; she was waiting for him to give up. An idea struck him and he felt his gaze slipping, his body moving forward on instinct.

They kissed. Or more his lips pressed against hers while they both froze in the action. This was supposed to be where the fireworks kicked in but Freddie didn't feeling. He felt something, but it was painful. Like lightning striking him; he was getting a taste of a drug he didn't want to be addicted to. Maybe there was something good there too, something positive about the situation but all he could think was how she wasn't kissing him bac.

Sam yanked back, bringing her hands to cover her lips while her eyes were a wild flurry of offense. "Sam…" he tried.

"Fuck you," she spat viciously."This thing," she gestured out the space between them. "Is over. We are over. We never even began. You love Carly and I fucking hate you so you need to get over this little thing you're on. We're not friends."

Freddie stood motionless. The taste of artificial apple still lingered on his lips.

**.x.**

_I don't like this chapter. I wrote two versions of it, and I can say with honesty I could have tried re-writing this chapter a million times over and it still wouldn't be very good. These even number chapters really do me in for some reason._


	7. Misplaced

**Seven/Misplaced**

_**/**_

_Wanted to belong here_

_But something felt so wrong here_

_**/**_

Sam wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck, for a moment contemplating just pulling it so tight that the internal battle she had waging inside her head would finally come to an end. The day was just beginning and yet she felt as though she had been up for days- she hadn't been keeping track of time, probably had been up for days. The sky was an off white color and the whole world seemed to be draped in a gray mask. From her view on the roof, she could see very few cars treading the roads and even fewer people making their way across the campus. They all knew what was coming, and they were all preparing to be huddled up in their homes for the next few days, snowed in by the massive storm that every creditable whether man had been predicting for the last week.

She had thought she'd be in New York that was the only reason she had left California. She thought when she first heard that in a week there'd be blizzard on the opposite coast she could make it to the comfort of her best friend's apartment and spend her days lazing around with hot coco and once the snow calmed down, building snowmen in Central Park. Things didn't turn out as planned though. Sam had gotten sick of the guy she was using as a ride to New York sometime in Utah and had to hitchhike with a trucker who stopped every two seconds to use the bathroom throughout Colorado. From there she put together the rest of cash (and a few unfortunate citizens' who were left open to her pick-pocketing skills cash) and got a one-way flight the rest of the way. The problem was when she made it to New York Carly was not there, abandoned her apartment for Seattle so she could try to avoid the wintry weather. Sam knew Carly hated snow, but she didn't think she'd go as far as to leave town just avoid it. Under most circumstances Sam would of just broken into the place, but Carly's crazy neighbor had threatened to call the police and Sam had lost her cell phone some weeks back.

So with little money and twenty four hours until the storm was supposed to begin Sam had somehow ended up in Massachusetts, on the rooftop of the famed Harvard College. For the last hour she had been perched on the rooftop, wrapped tight in fleece while she contemplated which was worse: freezing to death or talking to the dork again. She was still rather inclined to freezing to death; it would be a much more peaceful (and pride saving) way to go. It had been over a month and she had yet to say a word to him, and if she had it her way, she wouldn't know anything about him- completely forget him all together. Unfortunately both of them were still avoiding telling Carly about the incident so Sam had to listen to Carly babble about how Freddie was doing this or that and Sam had to pretend like she either already knew or cared. Carly had been a bit suspicious that something was wrong between the two, but with nothing but speculation she had yet to accuse Sam of anything.

Sam laid back on the roof, closing her eyes and letting out a deep sigh. She was already twenty two, how had she gotten so old? She was the youngest out the three, and yet she felt like the oldest. She felt like she was her mother; stuck at a point where she was too old to do anything about her life's current state. She knew there was no one to blame but herself. She had wanted to have fun, blew off high school too much to go to college- not that she wanted to go college anyway, she hated high school so what'd make college any different?- and never stayed in one place to hold a steady job. She knew this was the time she should have been setting the road that would pave the rest of her life, but it felt like the more time that went by the more ground she lost. In five years would she be staring in the mirror and wondering who was staring back?

Sam opened her eyes as the first snowflake landed on her nose, cold and followed by many more. She set her eyes on the door to her left, knowing that even if she did pick the first option of freezing to death by the first inch of snow her resolve would be gone and she'd be scampering inside anyhow.

She stood, brushing herself off of imaginary dirt before turning towards the door.

Maybe he wouldn't be home.

**/**

He was home.

Sam could hear his faint muttering through the door surrounded by what sounded like video game fight sounds. She could just picture him, all bundled up like a child hunched over his high-tech laptop completely unaware of the weather outside, too immersed in whatever RPG game he was currently into. The thought almost made her smile, and then she remembered about the incident and suddenly the scene in her mind became a lot less endearing. She still didn't see how someone as weak as him got the nerve to kiss someone like her. In truth, she was a little bit proud of him for showing signs of a backbone but the overwhelming- anger, repulsion, disbelief? She had yet to sort what emotion it was she had been feeling- was enough to overcome the pride completely.

With a sigh she slid a bobby pin in her hand, successfully unleashing her blonde locks which she had somehow found a way to hold at bay by the small piece of metal. She slid it into the lock and within moments she heard the small, nearly soundless, click signaling the surrender of the adequate, at best, lock.

Sam didn't hesitating, knowing that if she waited much longer she'd eventually convince herself to return to the roof and succumb to an elegant, snowy death. She threw the door opened and tumbled in, keeping her eyes on the floor as she shut the door behind her and stripped of her snow gear. Throwing her coat, scarf and boots every which way before she took comfort on the nerd's too-comfy bed.

She was aware of the squeak the nerd had made, and how all of the sudden the video game noises were silenced but she tried to block it out as she closed her eyes and hoped it was possible to will herself to sleep in just seconds.

"Sam?"

Sam opened her eyes, letting them slide over to where the voice originated from before they landed on Freddie's face. He didn't look different, and she guessed given that it had only been a bit over a month there shouldn't have been any significant changes, but still. He looked too similar, like nothing had changed at all. Like no time had passed, like nothing had happened.

"Benson," she noted his presence, trying to silence her thoughts.

Freddie looked back to the computer screen and then to Sam and then he- Sam wanted to hit him- actually pinched himself. "Sam, what are you doing _here_?" he asked, getting up from his chair and taking a step towards him.

She put her hand up to stop him, pointing towards the window. "Snowstorm, Benson. It was either this of freeze to death- which, believe me, sounded a hell of lot better but then this."

Freddie scowled and leveled her with a glare. "What?" She cocked an eyebrow. "It's not like you can actually kick me out. You have a conscious and I have a knack for manipulation."

Freddie shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, she watched him with cat like eyes. For once he just wasn't the prey in her eyes, he was a predator too- not one of much threat, seeing as how she could easily take him, but she had to keep on the balls of her heels awaiting an attack.

"So, what? We're back to normal again?"

"You and I," she said, the thought of them being a 'we' making her antsy. "Are not back to normal. I just need a place to crash."

"Sam," he sighed. "There is a blizzard coming- you might be here for days."

"I lived with my mother for seventeen years; I assure you I can go a couple of days totally ignoring your existence."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You can't just come into my dorm, demanded I let you stay and refuse to talk to me."

Sam rolled her eyes. "One, I didn't demand, I simply told you the facts. Two, I'm talking to you right now, Benson. You haven't gone deaf, have you? Three, well, there just always has to be a three."

"You know what I mean. You haven't talked to me in over a month and you can't honestly expect I'm not going to talk about the ki-"

"Incident," she corrected, throwing him a dark look. "The incident, Benson. That highly unfortunate _accident_ that shall not be named or repeated."

"You can't act like it didn't happen if we're going to move past it."

"You and I," she sat up in the bed. "Don't need to move past it. I don't want to move past it, I want to get rid of it. Crush it, kill it- whatever works."

"Sam, this is stupid; you're being childish. It was just one little mistake, I promise it will never happen again."

Sam stared at him, searching his brown eyes that were full or regret and other weakling emotions before falling back on the bed. She hated that word. 'Mistake', what did it even mean? An accident was one thing, a mistake just made it sound…

Sam groaned, she wanted to shut off her brain. She hated thinking about the incident, hating trying to decipher her own feelings or thoughts. She was the careless one, the one who never let anything stick to her. This was incident was definitely sticking to her- at least, it was trying too.

"We're not talking about it," she said with finality. Not talking about it, not thinking about it.

"Fine, you don't have to talk about it, but I have freedom of speech and you have nowhere to go therefore I'm talking about it." She looked at the ceiling, trying to block him off and ward off the enticing thought of freezing to death. "We all consumed a lot of alcohol that night so it wasn't like I was thinking right and then that thing with Carly, it just, I just…" He shrugged. "I don't know what I was thinking. I don't love Carly, and I really don't think she loves me."

"Benson, you love Carly, accept it and move on and _maybe_ things can be…not okay, but not bad." She didn't know what her mouth was acting on, definitely not her thoughts. She didn't know why she wanted Freddie and Carly to be together, if anything it would just make things worse with them all coupled up and one of them- mainly, her- misplaced. Somehow her mouth seemed to like the idea together. Her tongue seemed to love throwing them together- Carly loving Freddie, and more importantly, Freddie loving Carly seemed ideal.

"Sam," he said flatly. "I don't love Carly, why can't you get that?" She sat up in a second, pointing an accusing finger his way.

"Why can't you get that you do?"

"Because I don't!"

"You do."

"I do not."

"Do too."

"I think I know how I feel."

"Obviously not."

"What's your problem?"

"What do you think is my problem?"

"The kiss-"

"Incident."

"Call it what you want, it is what it is."

Sam crossed her arms over her chest and mirrored his body language perfectly. "And what is 'it' exactly?"

Freddie backed off, retreating back to his computer chair, his eyes never leaving hers. "I don't know."

"Which is my point." Sam debated it in her head; she had basically won this little verbal sparring match.

"No, I know that I'm not in love with Carly I'm just unsure about other things…" And just like that he was back in the fight.

"Other things?" she questioned, wishing she hadn't. She needed an off button immediately. For her brain, for her mouth, for her life.

"I'm unsure about you," he admitted, looking away.

"What is there to be unsure about?" Off, off, off.

"I don't know, Sam," he threw his hands up in exaggeration. "Everything, nothing. I mean, it's _you._"

"What's that supposed to be mean?" she glared.

"It means that you are you and that makes _everything_difficult."

"You're being overdramatic, Benson."

"I'm not! I kiss you-"

"Don't use that word," she demanded.

"Kiss," he challenged. "And you try to force me into loving your best friend-"

"Our best friend."

"Which is completely insane. You deny and you yell and fight but what are you really feeling?" He stared at her and she shrugged.

"Everything, nothing. I try not to look too deep into it."

"Well, thanks for clearing that up."

"Likewise."

Sam closed her eyes, trying to let her mind fall into the hazy darkness that was sleep. "Where does this leave u-" Freddie started before cutting himself off with a sigh. "You and I?"

"I don't know; you're the one with the misguided feelings."

"And, what? You're the one that feels nothing."

"At least not for you I don't."

Sam didn't regret her words until she felt the silence, weighing on her chest and stealing her breath. She didn't mean for it to come out as harsh as it did. Even if she was angry (? She was still unsure about those feeling of hers) at him, she knew deep down they were still friends. Close friends, seeing as he was one out of the only two friends she had.

She cracked open an eye and dared a peek at him, somewhat surprised to just find him staring blankly at the space above her head. He was hurt, she could tell, and oh, god, she was actually feeling guilty.

She exhaled loudly. "Look, I didn't mean it like-"

"I know."

"Well, then stop with that stupid kicked puppy look."

He looked at her, and unless Sam was mistaken, he seemed almost angry- no, that was the wrong word, exasperated was more like it. Or, no, defeated. "You just don't get it."

The thing was, she was actually starting to. "There's nothing to get."

Freddie dropped his eyes to meet hers and she knew he was on to something, knew they were entering dangerous territory. "You know it, you just don't want me to say it," he accused. "Because then you'd actually have to face the truth."

"That was really original, I applaud you. You obviously have me figured out to the tee. Yes, Benson, I'm just this poor tortured soul dying for you to tell me you-" she cut herself off, hating the smirk that took over Freddie's face.

"Tell you what?"

"Nothing."

"Sam Puckett, ladies and gentlemen, the invincible."

"I'm through talking to you."

"Of course you are."

Sam rolled on her side and shimmied underneath the covers, hugging one of Freddie's pillows close to her as she tried to give into sleep.

She wasn't sure how much time had gone by but eventually the video game noises returned and she was caught in that state between consciousness and sleep.

As she felt the exhaustion pull on her a stray thought pulled at her mind.

She wasn't invincible.

**/**

_[Song excerpt "Breakaway" by Kelly Clarkson]_


	8. Disappear

**Eight/Disappear**

**/**

_In a couple of years, tides have turned from__  
__boos to tears and in spite of__  
__the weather; we can learn to make it__  
__together_

/

Freddie Benson was either the smartest or the most idiotic man in the world. Scratch that, he was either the smartest or the most idiotic _boy_ in the world. The fact that it had taken him this long to get to the place he was now at proved he had yet to deserve that particular title.

"We need to talk." Freddie held his breath, sure these were the words were responsible for breaking many a relationship. He didn't need to be worried though; there was no relationship here to break. Not a romantic one- or at least, that was what he was trying to prove.

"Okay Mr. Serious, what do we need to talk about?" Carly smiled hands busy with putting a batch of brownies into her oven as her eyes drifted to him. He wasn't sure she was exactly feeling the mood he was trying to set.

"Sam." The less words he used the better this was go. That's what it had said in his mother's 'Opening the Lines of Communication' hand-book anyhow.

"Oh, good." Carly shut the oven and leaned against the counter, taking off her oven mitts. "Have you heard from her? She sent me a voicemail last week during the snow storm but she didn't tell me where she was at. I've been worried that she might have, I don't know, like, frozen over or something. It'd be just like her to pick last week out of all the weeks to come to the East Coast," Carly shook her head.

Freddie's thought crashed into each other. He hadn't been meaning to tell Carly about Sam's little drop-in the previous week but maybe he could use that as a segue into the topic he had in mind. "Um, yeah. She actually ended up at my dorm last week which is what I wanted to-"

"Sam was with you?" Carly's smiled dropped for just a second, her mouth forming into an even line of apathy. "Oh."

"She was coming to see you but then she didn't have her cell phone and…I don't know, she wasn't exactly in a detail giving kind of mood. Anyhow, I wanted to talk to you about that. Sam and I, we've been kind of…" killing each other with words and actions, "Off, lately."

"Yeah, I noticed. I'd just assume it was another one of your little secret fights or something," this time Carly's smile was stabbing. "Finally going to clue me in?" Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned Sam's little visit. He knew that Carly was still a bit insecure about his and Sam's relationship but he didn't think she was that bothered by it anymore. He thought they had gotten past that.

"It wasn't a secret, I mean, it's not a secret. It's…something that I need to explain to you, and I wanted to do it face to face." Maybe he'd do it computer-screen to computer-screen instead. At the moment, that definitely seemed the more appealing choice.

"Should I sit?" Carly was only half joking.

Freddie took a deep breath, pushing himself off the couch he had been leaning on and crossing into the kitchen. Then on a second thought he headed back to the living room, only to return to the kitchen again. He needed to keep moving- walking made it easier for him to ignore the cowardice part of him telling him to sit down and shut up. "Maybe. I don't even know where to begin. First, you have to promise you can't tell Sam what I'm going to tell you. She'll kill me- literally this time, trust me when I say I've seen murder in her eyes."

"I promise, but you know Sam always has a way of finding things out." Mostly due to Carly's face being an open book- god, this was such a bad idea. He should leave or jump off a building or something less agonizing then talking about his feelings for Samantha Puckett.

"I know. I used to think that maybe she could read minds or something but then I realized she was just threatening enough to get people give up information. Oh, don't tell her that either- I mean, the part about the reading minds because she'll completely ignore the last part and get all smug and go off about the ninja stuff." Carly watched Freddie with a somewhat amused expression, while she was thoroughly enjoying his obvious panic her stomach kept turning at the thought that his panic spurned from a matter with Sam. An apparent serious manner with Sam.

"I'm getting off topic, aren't I? I mean, what was the topic anyways? Maybe we should talk about brownies. You know, my mother once said they were the hundredth and seventh leading cause of-"

"Sam, Freddie. You said it was important." Carly decided that she minus well take that seat. It was a safe bet they were going into dangerous territory, it was never a good sign when Freddie started spouting out his mother's random facts.

"Right. Sam. Puckett." Freddie suddenly stopped pacing, turning towards Carly with wide eyes. "You don't like me, I mean, in the romantic sense, like…at all? Do you?"

Carly swallowed, letting out an uneasy laugh. "Are you trying to change the topic again? Because I'm telling you one way or another you're going to have to-"

"No, this is relevant. It's just," he exhaled, running his hand through his hair. "Do you remember anything from Thanksgiving?"

Carly thought back but she could only vaguely remember details about the day, the following night completely wiped out in gray blur. She had been drunk, she knew that much, and had suffered one of the worse hang-overs of her life the next morning. Besides that, it was all a blank. Actually, come to think about it, after Thanksgiving was when she had noticed the weirdness between her two best friends. "Not really, at least not after dinner…" she bit her lip. "Oh geez, did I sing again?"

"No. I mean, yes, but that's not the point. That night you…you were saying some things…" he pressed his fingers together, finally finding the sight of his hands fascinating. "And it made me think some things…and in turn do some things and Sam…well, I guess she didn't really _do_ anything…" besides proclaim their friendship as finished and runaway. Again. "But we need to talk."

"About Sam. Sam and you?"

"Sam and us."

"Okay." The apartment was filling up with the smell of brownies and Freddie hated it. He hated how sweet and innocent everything about this moment was when it was everything but. He wanted it to smell like absolutely nothing and for the air to be cold. He wanted it to be empty and heavy, he wanted everything to be focused in on his words because he was positive once they were out he'd never get them back in to repeat.

"I know you don't, but just because of Sam, I have to know for sure you don't feel anything for me." Freddie swallowed hard. In his mind he had convinced himself he'd be able to ask that question and not feel anything but in reality it had been a question he had been trying to ask for over a decade and it came with weight whether he wanted it to or not.

Carly looked around the apartment, her eyes settling on the stove before they came back to him, forcefully, as if she was summoning her courage to look him in the eyes. "I…I can't say I haven't thought about it. In the beginning you were just my tech-nerd neighbor and then you were my tech-nerd best friend and somewhere between high school and now you became a boy who I probably would date if it wasn't for our friendship." Carly felt exposed. "If you think about it, we'd probably work great together."

Freddie stared at her, trying to come up with something to do or say when his brain had decided to step out for the moment. "Yeah…but you don't love me."

"What is this all about? What happened on Thanksgiving?" Carly crossed her arms over her chest. "You say whatever it is isn't a secret but at the moment that's what it feels like."

"I'm trying to tell you. It's just on Thanksgiving, you said…you said…" he really wished he was Sam sometimes. If he were, he could just nonchalantly put it out there instead of making it such a big deal like he was. "You said you were in love with me."

"Oh." Carly looked down, her feet kicking back and forth. "I was drunk."

"I know that and it's not like I thought anything of it but-"

"You didn't think anything of it?" Carly looked back up and Freddie furrowed his eyebrows, taking a step back.

"What? I don't know, I wasn't really in my right mind to-"

"But you didn't feel anything? Like…I don't know, happy? Or upset or something? Usually people have some kind of immediate reaction when someone says they're in love with them."

"But you're not in love with me."

"How do you know, I could be."

"_Carly_."

Carly raised her head, defiant. "I could be in love with you, it isn't that crazy. Like I said, if you think about it, we'd work together. If we got together, we'd probably end up getting married. Sam could be my maid of honor and Spencer could be your best man. We could live in Seattle and start our own business again- maybe an iCarly for an adult demographic. It'd be perfect and there's absolutely no reason why I shouldn't be in love with you."

"Except for the fact that you're not," Freddie threw up his hands in exasperation. "You don't love me! Why am I the only one who gets this? For all the jokes everyone makes, I think I'm the only one who really got any sense when it comes to relation-"

"One? Have you been talking to someone else about this?" Carly's voice raised an octave.

"Not really. Sam was there that night, it's not like I _told_ her and-"

"Oh my god. You two have been discussing this behind my back! You don't tell me, and then you discuss me behind my back and what? Have you been laughing at me?"

"What? No. Why would you even-"

"Because it's you and Sam! I told her, I told her and she said it wasn't true but no matter how anyone looks at it it's you and her and then me. When we're together it might be like that, but when we're apart it's like you forget about me!"

"It's not like that! It's not like that and if you really looked at things you'd see that. You and Sam have secrets that you keep from me, you and I have secrets that we keep from her and when she and I have secrets- which, we almost never do- why is that not okay? We're all friends, but it's not all one relationship." Freddie exhaled, his chest rising and falling with speed now. He hadn't meant to get so worked up.

"It's not okay, you're shutting me out."

"We're not shutting you out. We both love you Carly, and everyone knows Sam loves you more than anyone in the world how could you-"

"I see it, okay? I see how you look at her and how she looks at you and I know what happens. It doesn't matter how things are now, it only matters how things are going to be _after_."

"After? After what?"

"After you get together with Sam! Don't deny it either, because I know it's going to happen. One of these days Sam is going to grow up- because, she's not like her mom, you know, she's going to become something more- and she's going to realize that she doesn't hate you. She's going to realize it, you'll be waiting for her and I'll be left alone. I'll be the girl who they don't show at the end of movies, the one that gets thrown away like a used tool." Carly's eyes filled with tears and she angrily swiped them again, keeping her chin up.

Freddie didn't know what to do. He wanted to reach out and hug the brunette but at the moment he didn't think that was what he should do so instead he sighed. "I'm not even sure I like her yet."

"Oh please, you totally love her." Carly tried to smile but failed, reaching over to grab a stack of napkins that were placed at the center of the kitchen table.

"I do _not_ love Sam Puckett. It goes against the law of nature." Freddie pushed the napkin towards Carly and set her with a serious look. "And just so we're clear, you could never be thrown away like a used tool- people don't throw away tools after using them."

"Yes they do…they, like, use them and…"

"Put them in a toolbox and keep them forever."

"So you're going to shut me away in a box?"

"No, I'm just going to keep you forever. And if you were a tool Sam would probably carry you around in her pocket and use you to hurt people. She'd be like one of those guys in those old western films that talk to their guns."

"She did always play a cowboy really convincingly." Carly blew her nose in the napkin and rolled her eyes. "I was being stupid, wasn't I?"

"Well, you did think that Sam would let me take her out on a date…"

"Have you ever asked her?"

"Have I ever asked Sam out on a date?" Freddie raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, but you want to?"

"I think I should get her to talk to me first." Or just finding her general whereabouts would be a good place to start.

"She's not talking to you?"

"No. She did talk to me, but it was only because she wanted fat cakes and couldn't make it to the local convenience store to shoplift a pack."

Carly smiled. "She's a girl lead by her stomach."

"Tell me about it." Freddie licked his lips and sat down across from Carly. "You're okay now? You get that neither Sam or I would ever push you out of our lives? Heck, that Sam would push me out of your lives if she thought I was trying to push you out?"

"I get it. I think I'm still going to be a bit worried though. Not in a hysterical way though, I just need to _see_ that everything is going to be okay before my mind accepts it."

"Fair enough. Though I still say that there's never going to be anything to see."

"Sam will come around. Now tell me why she won't talk to you."

"It's a long story." Long being the understatement of the century.

"We have time."

The timer on the counter went off and Carly stood up to fetch her brownies. Yeah, Freddie thought, he guessed they did.

/

_I'm completely stunned I managed to update. I feel so horrible that the first time I update in a year and it's a complete Carly/Freddie chapter but this is all the stuff that needed to be said since the beginning. I think I can actually give you guys a proper ending now that this out of the way, how insane is that?_

_Anyhow, I have to say you guys are absolutely amazing. I'm sure there's only about one person left reading this story but I've been getting weekly alerts filling my inbox and PMs and reviews and all your love and support has been amazing. Ship warring aside, this is one of my favorite fandoms to be in and I've met so many incredible people and just thanks so much for all the love. You guys really make me smile sometimes, and that counts for so much. _

_As always, feedback = love but even if you don't, I just hope whoever is left reading enjoys this~!_

_[Song excerpt from MGMT's "The Youth."]_


	9. Effortless

**Nine / Effortless**

_I'm not yours, and you're not mine__  
__But we can sit and pass the time__  
__No fighting wars, no ringing chimes,__  
__We're just feeling fine._

**/**

"Sam."

"Carly."

"_Sam."_

"_Carly._"

"Sam, seriously."

"Carly, seri-"

"How can you not go to Freddie's party?" Carly wiggled further down into her bean bag, giving her friend a disapproving look as she kicked her legs lazily against the prop car. In a typical Sam fashion the blonde was trying to simultaneously drink a smoothie and eat a rib while lying upside down. It wasn't working out too well.

"Easy. I simply avoid crazy's apartment on that particular day in February. I haven't been in that place in like…three years? I doubt I'm suddenly going to get the urge to go there just because the nub's anti-bacterial underwear is going to be vacating it again." In truth, Sam was pretty sure she'd most definitely get an urge. For the last few weeks her mind had been in a battle on how to handle the whole…situation she had created with the geek. On the one hand she wanted to confront him, scream it out and finally- _finally_ reach a conclusion to this thing that had been brewing for years. On the other she was pretty damn content with avoiding him for the rest of her life; it had the potential to work out much better than the whole confrontation idea.

"So you admit you're avoiding Freddie?"

"I admit that I'm naturally programmed to avoid that much crazy in one location." Sam pulled herself up and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. She was pretty sure she had just gotten smoothie to drip out of her nose. Either that or barbeque sauce.

"You know Freddie and I had a talk, he's really upset by all of this." Carly shrugged. "I think it might really make him happy if you showed up."

"Yeah and it'd really make me happy if my mother stopped stuffing her bra with pudding packs- we can't all get what we want, Carls."

Carly sighed, shaking her head. "Promise me that if you're in town you'll at least stop by."

"I probably won't be in town."

"Sa-"

"_Fine."_

"Thank you, that's all I a- is there barbeque sauce dripping from your nose?"

/

"Spencer did you wash your hands?" Spencer froze; hand halfway into the cake Freddie knew his mother had spent hours making with frown slowly slipping onto his face.

"Um…yes?" Spencer slowly removed his hand from the cake, revealing five icing covered fingers. "Uh, just wondering for no particular reason but what kind of soap do you guys use?"

"Why would you cut the cake with your hand?" Carly was chewing on her own piece of cake, skillfully making use of her utensils.

"And why would it matter what kind of soap we use?" Freddie chewed on his own cake- for a sugar-free, milk-subsisted yellow cake with fruit icing it was surprising tasty. Definitely one of his mother's better concoctions.

"I couldn't find a knife and I like that one soap with those little pieces in them the-"

"The one with the berries chunks that dissolve while you wash?"

"Yeah! How awesome are they? They like, massage my hand with soapy goodness while I wash." Spencer smiled, looking up at the ceiling as if he were imagining some kind of situation that involved the soap in question.

"Do you know that scented soap is .008 percent less likely to get your hands clean? Think of the diseases you're leaving on your hands by using that stuff." Freddie watched as his mother re-entered the kitchen, holding up a plain looking bottle of liquid soap. "I have some nice anti-bacterial, industrial strength soap right here, it suds to get all those little places in between!"

By now Spencer had taken to sucking on his fingers, staring at the bottle of soap warily. "I don't have any little places on my hands though."

"Non-sense, come on into the kitchen and I'll teach you how to properly wash your hands."

"I really don't think that's necessary-"

"Now, Spencer!"

"Okay."

Carly let out a laugh as her brother disappeared into the kitchen. "Do you think she's going to teach him the 'We're washing our hands' song?"

"For his sake I hope not, she added another verse last year so it's like fifteen minutes long." Freddie smiled, letting his eyes stray over the apartment. When his mother had first found out his birthday fell on a weekend and insisted he fly back to Seattle for a party he had been wary. In the past his mother's party usually consisted of long lectures about the dangers of unmarked underwear and games like 'clean the spot off the rug' or 'list the seven signs of depression.' With that kind of reputation it was easy to see why half of his old friends were too busy to make the trek up to see him but the party had been surprisingly tame. His mother had restrained herself with asking him normal questions and only breaking out into one psychotic burse ('Are you depressed? Have you been drinking? Why don't you have better friends? We need to get you tested this instant!') before pulling herself together for the rest of the day. And with Spencer and Carly over Freddie could barley tell the difference between his party and one of the old afternoons he used to spend in the Shay loft. Well, there was one difference.

It wasn't like Freddie was even expecting her to show up. It was Sam after all, she wasn't one to get sentimental and actually put a hold on their fight for his birthday but still. A part of him wanted to pretend that he didn't know Sam as well as he did and believe she'd just waltz right through his front door any moment, demanding cake while putting in some jab about how he had broken a record by being a nerd for twenty three straight years. Unfortunately for him from the moment Carly told him Sam would stop by 'if she was in town' he knew he wasn't going to catch sight of the blonde.

"Thinking about Sam?" Carly stared at him with knowing eyes and he cleared his throat, scrunching up his nose in disgust.

"No. I have tons of other things to think about besides _Sam."_

"But she's what you were thinking about because you like her," Carly poked him with her fork. "It's still early, I'm sure Sam will show."

Freddie set her with a dull look. "Yeah, and I'm also sure Sam will become a vegetarian and join a nunnery."

"Have some faith, she's not completely heartless."

Freddie opened his mouth to disagree but snapped it close. He wasn't going to gain anything by proving Sam was heartless, if anything convincing Carly of Sam's lack of emotions would only depress him further. He sighed, running his tongue across his teeth and deciding to put the blonde at the back of his mind. Almost every day lately was punctuated in melancholy because of her and he decided that of all the things he was willing to give her, this day was not one of them. He was going to enjoy himself- enjoy his family, the people who cared enough about him to show- and let himself be free of Sam Puckett. If she didn't want him, he wouldn't want her. At least, not right now.

"Whatever. I don't even want to talk about it. I just want to eat my cake and enjoy in this gaiety atmosphere."

"Gaiety?" Carly snorted.

"Yeah, it means-"

"I know what it means." Carly looked down, hiding her smile. "Very cool word, gaiety."

"Shut up."

/

"Go away."

Sam crossed her arms over her chest, giving the nub in front of her a hard slap to the head as he stirred in his Galaxy War sheets. She had been trying to be nice about the whole situation- it was his birthday after all- but his unconscious rejection stirred something vicious in her. Now she watched with a swell of pride as the geek shot up in bed, a bright red splotch slowly forming on his cheek. For a split second his eyes were wide and she swore she saw something pass through them- hope, maybe, she wasn't too familiar with the emotion- before his face went neutral.

"Oh, it's you." He actually had the nerve to lie back down, eyes drifting to the ceiling as he contemplated life or whatever it was he did with that useless thing in his head.

Sam narrowed her eyes, pulling out the chair from his desk and swinging it around to his bed so she could sit on it backwards. Chin coming to a rest on the back as she propped her shoe up on his bed. She already knew the ball was in her court and she had to be the one to do something with it but the fact that he was practically forcing her into action made her uneasy. Sam Puckett was not a girl who liked force action. "Yeah, well, I'm not exactly throwing up rainbows to see your face either."

"Why are you here then?" No curiosity, no emotions just a blank, monotonous inquiry.

"I don't know Carly was like, nagging me and stuff and last time she got mad at me she refused to send me a care package of fat-cakes." That had been a particularly dark month in the journeys of Sam Puckett that she didn't often like to remember.

"Carly already left," Freddie's eyes flickered to his alarm clock, sliding right over her. "Seeing as how it's…two am."

"Yeah, but you can tell her I was here next time you see her." Sam pushed herself away from his bed and spun around in the chair. She had already raided the Benson's fridge and after devouring that horrible thing facading as a cake she was feeling a bit sick. She liked it though, it was easy to focus in on sick and pass by all her other emotions.

"Well, if that's all you wanted I was in the middle of sleeping so-"

"I got you a present." Sam stopped herself, smiling as Freddie finally quirked an eyebrow. She waited, willing him to break his pouty little routine and let curiosity get the best of him like she knew it would.

"What is it? A pocket protector again?"

"Nah, even the nerdy stores like Techboys don't sell those anymore so I had to get you something a bit more current." She reached in her pocket and pulled out a box, throwing it over to him. It was unwrapped, of course, with a mess of clear tape keeping it closed.

"I swear, if it's another pair of clip-on earrings I'm going to-" Freddie paused, opening the box and examining the item inside. "A flash drive?"

"Not just any flash drive, it's yours. I stole it back in junior year for that one project." She was quite proud of herself for managing to find the thing. She had been sure she had used it as a tooth pick one time and thrown it away years ago.

"Thanks," he said flatly, "Is that it?"

"Yes." No.

Freddie picked the flash drive out of the box, squinting as if the action would morph it into something else. "What's on this?"

Sam shrugged. "Just some stuff."

"Like…?"

"Stuff."

Freddie rolled his eyes. "Helpful. Hand me my laptop."

Sam looked over her shoulder and then back at him. "Yeah, I think not."

"Why must you be so obnoxious?"

"Why must you speak like a nub?"

"Why must you-" Freddie shook his head. "You know what, no. Just tell me now, is this how you're going to be?"

"I don't know what you're-"

"Right. I'm going back to sleep." Freddie promptly fell back into his bed, closing his eyes. Sam felt her irritation rise. She hated this. She wanted to punch him or leave or do something that was like usual instead of sit here quietly and think like she was now. She didn't think about things, she did things. Yet somehow things with the nub required thinking- like he was too much of an uber geek to let someone get away with thoughtless in his presence.

"You kiss like a desperate stalker," she spun the chair again, closing her eyes so she could block out whatever expression the nub might have taken on.

"…A desperate stalker?"

"Or an inexperience loser." She shrugged.

"Oh." The silence was heavy and awkward and Sam had just about decided to leave when Freddie spoke again. "You're not exactly the best kisser yourself."

She spun on him, "What was that Frederly? Mama has won award with these lips right here."

"What awards are those?" He sat back up, crossing his arms over his chest.

"All the awards, I won't worry your little mind with them."

"More like you won't put out the effort to make _fictional_ titles."

"Best kisser, sexiest kisses, most flexible tongue, best in show-"

"How would someone even judge most flexible tongue? And best in show, really?"

"What are you disagreeing Benson?"

"Not at all."

"Good."

Sam ran her teeth over her lips, letting out a sigh. "Alright Benson."

"Alright?"

"Alright, I accept that you don't like Carly." She needed something to chew on. She swung the chair back towards Freddie's desk, searching through the drawers for some kind of snack. With his health crazy mother he had to have a secret stash of goods somewhere.

"That's very mature of you." She could feel him roll her eyes as she went to the next drawer. Why he needed sticky notes in every color was beyond her.

"I figured even you couldn't be that pathetic to still have the hots for a girl who was obviously never going to like you back." She pulled out a snack bar and wrinkled her nose, apple and granola. She set it aside, still sure there had to be something better.

"Gee, I wish I had come to that conclusion myself." Sam heard him rustle behind her and turned back around to see him getting out of bed.

"The corner diner is open all night," he said of way of explanation.

She smiled, "You're paying."

**/**

"I'm never going to be able to go in there again!" Freddie still couldn't breathe, his heart was breathing painfully against his chest and his legs were sore from running. He was almost certain he had just had a heart attack and yet he couldn't even properly be worried about that since he was too busy being distracted by the blonde laughing hysterically on the ground.

"Your face…such…a…novice." She breathed out, her laughter finally dying down as she set a hand over her stomach. Her cheeks were flushed and she had the kind of sparkle in her eye he hadn't seen in a while. He missed it.

"Excuse me for not dabbling in illegal activities all the time. You know, they probably know who we are. I bet right now my mother is getting woken up by the police banging on her door."

Sam snorted. "I wish. I'd pay money to see crazy's face if she found out her precious son had broken the law."

"I'm an adult now, she's loosening up!"

"She brought you a rape whistle and one of those emergency senior-citizen bracelets for your birthday."

"They're both really reasonable gifts," he argued, reaching out his hand to help her up. She stared at his hand a moment before grabbing it and pulling herself up, eyes lowered to the ground as she brushed herself off.

"I have to say I'm proud Benson, I thought you were going to choke when that waitress called after you."

Freddie was rather pleased himself, though if you asked he was still adamant he was disappointed in their actions. When Sam had suggested they dine and dash- actually dine and dash, like they did in teen rom-coms, he had of course said no. Then she had teased him, insulted and said something about foot-y pajamas and the next thing he knew he was trying to catch up to Sam as their waitress screamed after them. He couldn't remember the last time he was so scared and yet at the same time he couldn't remember when he had last had so much fun.

"I don't quit things halfway," he said, frowning when it didn't sound nearly as cool as he had wanted.

"In that case we should go hit up that convenience store on ninth, last time I checked they didn't have security camera."

"We're not knocking off a convenience store just for the hell out it."

"Eh, I'm not in the mood anyway." Sam leaned back against the wall of some apartment or something. "Ah that pie hit just the right spot."

"Seeing how much you ate, it should." He leaned back too, shoulder barely brushing hers. The action should have been simple and meaningless but with her he felt the need to hyper analyze it. She wasn't moving away, that had to be a good sign, right?

Freddie wondered what time it was now. The sky was still a harsh blue but in the distance he could see that things were beginning to brighten and in the distance he could hear birds chirping. He doubted he'd be able to fall back asleep when he got home (and even if he did, his mother had a thing about sleeping past nine being a sign of depression). Besides that tomorrow he was heading back to Massachusetts and he didn't want to spend his last day in Seattle sleeping.

"When are you leaving?" He didn't actually want to talk about her leaving, but he also didn't want to call her later and find she was in Florida or some other random place.

She shrugged. "I don't know. My mom managed not to completely wreck my room and so I might stay here for a while. Spencer said he needed a model for some painting or whatever since Sasha is out of town."

"I thought you said you were never going to model for Spencer again," he said, remembering the fish sculpture.

"Things change." Freddie thought that was maybe one of the first times she acknowledged the fact.

"Yeah, they do."

Sam sighed, digging her hands into her pocket and closing her eyes. "Does it feel different, being older?" And he might be imagining it but he was pretty sure she was leaning her head on his shoulder. He was too afraid to look though.

"Not really. I mean I don't _feel_ different but I know things are different. It just seems more apparent I'm an adult and this is how my life is going to be from now on."

"You think how our lives are now are how we are going to be forever?" Her voice was soft and he was sure she was falling asleep.

"Yeah…maybe. I think that now is the time to change the things we want to change; otherwise it will be too late."

"That's chiz," she mumbled and her head was definitely on his shoulder, he could feel her hair on his neck when she shifted. "I don't think I want my life to be like this forever."

He didn't know what to say so he pushed off the wall, Sam almost tumbling to the ground before groggily getting her footing and glaring at him. He squatted down, looking over his shoulder. "Back to the Carly's?"

"I'm not five," she huffed, nonetheless climbing onto his back and letting him carry her off. She refused to grab on to his neck though and so her arms hung lank by his side, making it even harder to balance her. He didn't mind.

"I don't think your life will always be the same," he said after a few minutes, finally deciding on his words. "I think you're already changing." This moment alone was enough to prove that. "Sam?" There was no response and after a minute he picked up on the light sound of snoring.

Some things didn't need to change.

**/**

**This chapter was so horrible to write, I am beyond relieved to have it finished. I'm not really sure how I feel about it but whatever, it's done and I'm not thinking about it until the next time I decide to overhaul this fic. I think there's only going to be one more chapter- and possibly an epilogue, because I'm a freak and I don't want to end this on an even number.**

**You guys are absolutely **_**amazing**_** for keeping up with this story and thanks so much for all your reviews, I appreciate them so much. Big thanks to **_Pigwiz_**, **_Spinlight_** and **_KingxLeon21 _**for helping me when I hit a rut halfway with this chapter.**


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